


Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Liftetimes

by everywinter



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-03-29 15:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19023136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywinter/pseuds/everywinter
Summary: “It won’t be enough.” Wonpil’s voice is calm and cold. He crouches down in front of Younghyun, grabs his jaw to force them face to face. “You’re not sorry, not really, not yet. But you will be."--Reincarnation AU where despite everything that happened between them, Younghyun and Sungjin are meant to be.





	Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Liftetimes

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [day6_ficfest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/day6_ficfest) collection. 



> There is a slight instance of a student/teacher relationship. If this is concerning to you, please see the end note where I'll provide a more detailed summary of their relationship and which life it's in so you can skip it if you'd like.

Younghun’s never been in a prison before. It’s as uncomfortable and horribly depressing as he’d imagined it would be. There’s a chill that sneaks into his bones the second he walks into the building and no matter how tightly he pulls his _po_ around his body, he still has to fight back a shiver.

 

The cell’s dark, just a tiny barred window in the upper corner of the stone wall, and the floor’s lined in what looks like damp straw. Sungjin’s crumpled up in the corner, as from the meager stream of sunlight as possible, and it makes Younghyun’s heart clench.

 

“Sungjin-” He crouches in front of the bars.

 

“Why are you here?” Sungjin doesn’t look up at him, pulls his knees even closer to his chest. “What more could you possibly want from me?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Are you really though?”

 

“I had to-”

 

Sungjin’s eyes are red, but dry, when he focuses his gaze on him. “You had to save your own skin. Younghyun, you should leave. I don’t know how it could possibly get any worse for me, but if anyone could manage, it would be you.”

 

He wants to insist that Sungjin listen to him, beg him to understand, but the words die in his throat. Sungjin’s long, dark hair is a mess around him and the clothes that they’ve left him in are wrinkled and soiled.

 

It’s wrong. It all feels wrong.

 

Sungjin doesn’t belong here. He belongs in the schoolhouse laughing at something stupid Dowoon’s said, laying in the grass in the sunshine, throwing back cup after cup of wine with a silly grin on his face.

 

He doesn’t even bother sending Younghyun a dirty look or a snappy remark before he buries his face back into his knees.

 

Younghyun leaves.

 

He lets his feet aimlessly take him away, isn’t even sure how he manages to keep from bumping into anyone. Maybe it’s because the entire town pities him. Younghyun’s seen the way people look at him, equal parts sympathy and disgust. He’s simultaneously a victim and a pariah.

 

Before he knows it, he’s wandered out of town and towards the little patch of forest where he and Sungjin had always used to meet.

 

There’s someone laying in the grass and for a wild second, Younghyun thinks that it’s Sungjin. But his rustling alerts the figure and when they sit up, the illusion’s broken.

 

Recognition brings a scowl over Jaehyung’s face. His eyes are red and there’s still tear tracks on his face. “Shouldn’t you be at home recovering from your ordeal?”

 

“Jae, please, just listen-”

 

“You know what, don’t bother, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” He pushes himself off the grass. “I don’t even know what you’re doing here, but if you won’t leave, I will.”

 

Jae shoves past Younghyun and he’s frantically trying to think of the words to say to make everything better, everyone’s always said that Younghyun’s clever and good with his words, but his mind stays blank.

 

Until something hits him in the back of the head, then tackled by a body that sends him flying into the grass. The blows come again and again until Dowoon’s pulled off of him, still kicking, struggling, and screaming. Younghyun touches the back of his head and it comes away sticky with blood, but it doesn’t feel like the rock did anything more than break the skin. He knows he’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow, but ache in his body almost clears his mind.

 

“Let me go, let me go!” Dowoon’s entire face is bright red and his hands are clenched into fists.

 

Jae’s pulling at him best he can, but Dowoon’s always been stronger than him and Younghyun’s still sitting in the grass just out of kicking range.

 

“Why don’t you get the hell up and move?” Jae snaps at him, “Help yourself, we all know that’s something you’re good at doing.”

 

Younghyun knows he’s crying now, but he can’t bring himself to stop, can’t bring himself to get up and leave. Dowoon’s still yelling insults and profanities at him, but he sits still and takes it because he knows he deserves it. Wonpil comes up behind Jae, puts his hand on Dowoon’s shoulder and squeezes. His voice is calm and quiet, too quiet for Younghyun to hear what he’s saying to the others, but whatever it is that he says it makes Dowoon slump into Jae’s arms in defeat. He lets out a wail that makes the hair on the back of Younghyun’s neck stand on end.

 

Jae spins Dowoon around and wraps him up in his arms again, offering comfort rather than restraint, and glares at Younghyun from over Dowoon’s shoulder. “Come on, Dowoonie, let’s go. He’s not worth it.”

 

They walk away, Jae’s arm thrown over Dowoon’s shoulder half in comfort and half to make sure he doesn’t make a charge towards Younghyun again. Wonpil’s still standing in front of him, light blue _jeogori_ almost blinding in the sunlight, and the way he’s staring down at Younghyun makes him feel less than a worm.

 

He swallows, licks his dry lips. “I’m sorry, Wonpil.”

 

“Sorry for getting involved with Sungjin in the first place or for telling everyone that he forced you when the two of you were caught? Sorry for not speaking up even when they said they were going to kill him for being a pervert and a rapist, or sorry that now you’ve lost us too?”

 

“For all of it.” Younghyun’s voice cracks around the words. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

 

“You can try, but it won’t be enough.” Wonpil’s voice is calm and cold. He crouches down in front of Younghyun, grabs his jaw to force them face to face. “You’re not sorry, not really, not yet. But you will be.”

 

Younghyun feels ice creep down his spine and he’s pretty sure Wonpil’s going to kill him here and now, but he just lets go of Younghyun, wipes his hand on the grass and leaves.

 

Somehow, that’s even worse.

 

Younghyun doesn’t go to the execution, but he hears from other people that they don’t give Sungjin a clean death.

 

He shivers in his room all night, half hoping and half terrified out of his mind that Sungjin’s ghost will come for him, but he remains alone.

 

Jae, Dowoon, and Wonpil move out of town a couple years later without a word to him. With their departure, the last people who know his secret are gone and he feels something too bitter to be called relief. He marries and has children, the way any dutiful only son must, but the guilt follows him. His wife is a kind woman, someone he maybe could have loved in a different life, but they can’t establish anything deeper than a fond sort of friendship. Every time Younghyun kisses her, he feels the ghost of Sungjin’s lips on his. When he wakes up in the morning, with her in his arms, it feels wrong. She’s too small, too soft, and none of that is her fault, but Younghyun resents her for it.

 

When Younghyun finally passes, surrounded by his wife, children, and even grandchildren, the only thing he can hear is Wonpil’s voice in his ear. They’re young men again, Wonpil crouched in front of him while he’s sitting dazed in the grass.

 

_“It won’t be enough. You’re not sorry, not really, not yet. But you will be.”_

And then he dies.

 

* * *

 

Jinnie’s the most beautiful girl in the entire world- no, the _universe_.

 

They’re only four, but Younghyun’s lived next door to her his entire life. Even though she mostly plays with the other girls in the neighborhood, their parents are friends, so sometimes she and her big sister will let Younghyun play with them after their families have dinner. Younghyun gets to be the dad and Jinnie’s the mom, and Jinnie’s big sister pretends to be the grandma who makes them kimbap when they come home from work.

 

Younghyun feels like his heart is too big for his chest whenever Jinnie laughs and he’s pretty sure that means he’s in love with her.

 

“Mama,” He says when she’s tucking him into bed that night, “I have a secret to tell you.”

 

“Oh? I promise I’ll keep it well.”

 

She hands him his stuffed dog and fusses with the blanket around him before he catches her attention by whining her name. “This is serious! Remember, you can’t tell anyone or it won’t come true.”

 

“Cross my heart.” She makes the movement over her chest so he knows she’s telling the truth.

 

“I’m gonna marry Jinnie when I’m bigger, you know.” Younghyun says, putting his head on the pillow and yawning when his mom strokes his hair. “She’s the most beautiful and fun girl in the entire world.”

 

“I’m happy to hear that, Jinnie’s a very nice girl.”

 

“Yeah, but you can’t tell anyone. I’m gonna ask her the next time they come over for dinner. It has to be a surprise because that’s how it always is on TV.”

 

“A surprise proposal,” His mom explains, “very romantic. Do you already have a ring picked out?”

 

Younghyun’s little brow crinkles. “No…. I don’t have one yet. Will you help me make one tomorrow?”

 

Her laugh makes Younghyun giggle too. “Of course, baby. It’s bedtime though. I love you, sweet dreams.”

 

“I love you too, Mama.”

 

They spend the entire next morning making a pretty blue paper ring for Jinnie. Younghyun’s mom helps him do most of the folds, but she says it still counts because he pressed down extra hard to make sure everything would stay together. She even lets him use her nail polish to paint a little diamond in the middle.

 

Younghyun spends the rest of the day writing Jinnie a letter about how she’s the coolest, nicest, most fun girl in the entire world. That means he’s in love with her, and _that_ means they should probably stay together forever, and _that_ means they should get married when they’re older. He even includes a detailed picture of the two of them holding hands, because Jinnie always says that he’s awesome at colouring and Younghyun wants to make sure that she remembers how cool he is so she’ll say yes. He’s especially proud of the ring on her finger since it looks just like the one he made her.

 

The Parks are supposed to come over at the end of the week for dinner, so Younghyun puts the ring, the letter, and the drawing safely on his bedside table that night. He hopes Jinnie will want to adopt a dog. He’s always wanted one.

 

On Wednesday, Younghyun’s mom sits him down, eyes red, and explains that Jinnie had an accident and has gone away.

 

“Gone where?” Younghyun wrinkles his nose. “When is she going to come back?”

 

“Baby, she’s not going to come back.” She says, brushing the hair out of his face and holding him almost too tight. “Jinnie’s gone to heaven.”

 

“Like Grandpa?”

 

“Just like Grandpa.”

 

It doesn’t make sense. Only old people die, and Jinnie’s the same age he is. His mom’s probably just confused, so Younghyun keeps the letter, the ring, and the picture on his desk for when she comes back.

 

He has to get dressed up in his fancy clothes to go to the funeral, and there’s a big closed box in front of a big picture of Jinnie. She’s wearing a yellow headband and there’s a big grin on her face and Younghyun smiles when he sees it. She looks pretty.

 

But everyone else is crying.

 

Everyone leaves flowers on the coffin when they all go out to the graveyard. There’s a big hole in the ground and it’s scary, but Younghyun’s mom has a warm grip on his hand and it makes him feel a little better.

 

Jinnie’s inside of that box – a coffin, just like the one Grandpa was in, but smaller – and then Younghyun’s scared and he’s crying too. Everyone else is crying, even his dad, so he doesn’t feel embarrassed.

 

His mom pulls the ring, the picture, and the letter out of her purse and passes it to Younghyun. The ring’s a little bit squished, but he smooths it out the best he can with his fingers and puts it on top of all the flowers. He made it for her anyway.

 

Younghyun’s mom picks him up, even though he’s probably too big for that now, and wraps him up tight. They lower the big/little box into the ground and Younghyun’s pretty sure it takes his heart with it.

 

* * *

 

“Fuck, just look at him, Pillie. Look how hot he is.”

 

“Thanks, Bri, but I have eyes too. And everyone else has ears, so you should probably keep your voice down.”

 

Brianna rolls her eyes and swings her legs back and forth, uniform skirt tickling her knees. “Please, it’s not like everyone else isn’t thinking the exact same thing. He’s like… a panther.”

 

“And you’re like a housecat in heat.” Wonpil shoots back, putting down her book with a sigh. “Come on, you have to let it go. He’s a teacher.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look.” Brianna says back, “We go to an all-girl’s school, let me have my fun where I can.”

 

“Come to the library and ogle all the public school boys like the rest of us then!”

 

“It’s not the same, he’s a _man_.” Wonpil gags and Brianna smacks her on the arm. “You know what; you can just shut your mouth because you’ve got your pick! Two different boys vying for your attention?”

 

“They’re not ‘vying for my attention’.” Wonpil says, nose wrinkled. “Jae, Dowoon, and I grew up together; they’re family friends.”

 

“Will you pick the sweet younger man, who always tries his best to cater to your every whim, or the older man you have undeniable, fiery, passionate tension with?” Bri swoons dramatically. “Haven’t you ever read a romance novel? Your whole situation is straight up lifted from a plot of one.”

 

“And student-teacher romances always end in tragedy. Stop trying to change the subject.” Wonpil whispers, grabbing Brianna by the arm when she turns away. “Bri, I’m not stupid. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

 

“I’m 18, I’m an adult.” Bri hisses back, “Besides, we haven’t done anything.”

 

“Yet!” Wonpil says, “The two of you are walking a fine line. It looks innocent from the outside, but I’ve heard the two of you talk when you think you’re alone. There’s too much emotion for it to be anything but inappropriate.”

 

Bri’s shoulders slump. “It doesn’t matter anyway; I’m going to be halfway across the planet in less than a month.”

 

“So, it means that you’re not in the clear yet.” Wonpil says, wrapping her hand around Bri’s wrist. “Don’t do anything stupid. You’ll always have Canada waiting for you, but he doesn’t have anywhere to run. Show some restraint for him, if not for you.”

 

Bri pulls her arm back. “I know what I’m doing.”

 

The lie’s obvious, but Wonpil just narrows her eyes and shoves another cucumber slice into her mouth.

 

Her dad drops her off at school on his way to work every day, so Bri gets to school early. It’s always a little odd to walk through the hallway when it’s empty and quiet, but it’s also a little like a peek into a different world.

 

“Good morning.” She says, gently placing the borrowed book on his desk. “Thanks for the loan.”

 

“It’s morning alright.” Mr. Park looks up at the sound of her voice and blinks his eyes blearily at her before his face spread into a half-hearted smile. “Did you like this one better than Pride and Prejudice?”

 

“Absolutely. I know that the plots were similar, but something about the interactions between Margaret and John made the romance feel smoother. Geeze, way to make a girl excited for the school day.” She teases, “Hang in there, teach, we’re almost at the end.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” He groans, pushing his floppy hair out of his face. “I have so many papers to grade.”

 

“You wouldn’t have so much to grade if you didn’t assign us so much work.” Bri shoots back, “You do realize we have other classes to worry about, right?” 

 

“Well, we all know none of them are nearly as important.”

 

Bri raises her hands like a scale. “I don’t know, history verses statistics? I feel like the latter is going to be a little more relevant to business administration.”

 

Mr. Park’s gaze softens. “I keep forgetting we have a bigtime future American university student in our midst.”

 

“Canadian.” She corrects.

 

“Right,” He says with a shiver. “so even further north.”

 

“I’ve been there to visit my aunt in the winter before, it’s bearable.” Bri says with a quirk of her lip in response to Mr. Park’s wrinkled nose. “The experience is going to be worth it.”

 

“Just you, Ms. Kang?” Mr. Park’s face turns concerned when she nods. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?”

 

“I’m sure.” She laughs, “Unless you’re offering to come with me?”

 

Mr. Park grins. “You want your old history teacher tagging alone while you step into adulthood?”

 

“First of all, you’re not old, you’re barely in your mid-twenties. Second of all, I turned 18 earlier this year, I’m already an adult in Canada.”

 

“Well, you’re still a kid here.” He laughs when she sticks her tongue out at him childishly. “Remember, you’re there to learn. Don’t get too wild.”

 

“Yes, sir.” She says, throwing him a messy salute.

 

“You’re a good girl.” Bri tries to ignore the pleasant shiver his words set up her spine. “Smart and resourceful too. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

 

It’s like she’s taken a gulp of too hot tea and it’s heating her from the inside out.

 

She can feel her grin falter and he immediately catches it too. “What’s wrong, Ms. Kang?”

 

“I’m scared,” She admits, wringing her hands. “what if I fail? I’m going to be all alone. Not just without my parents, but without my friends too. I don’t know what I’m going to do without Wonpil.”

 

“You’ll still have her.” Mr. Park insists, “I’ve seen the two of you together, your friendship isn’t something that distance can tear apart. And I’m sure you’ll fail at least once or twice. Maybe you’ll flunk your first quiz, maybe you’ll skip too many early morning classes and end up scrambling to understand material right before a big test.”

 

“Wow, thanks Mr. Park, real encouraging.”

 

“What I mean is, you’re allowed to make mistakes.” He says, “You’ve always been your biggest critic and you need to learn how to give yourself a break.”

 

“It doesn’t feel like it. People are counting on me.”

 

“Don’t tell anyone I said this to you, but it’s okay to be selfish sometimes.”

 

She presses a hand to her chest in mock affront. “Mr. Park, what kind of lessons are you teaching your students?”

 

“That it’s okay to put themselves first.” He says, face unexpectedly serious. “That their own happiness is important too.”

 

“So you’re saying that I should reach out and take a risk for what I want?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

There’s something clear and thoughtful in his eyes and Brianna wonders if this is going to be it. The culmination of all the mornings they spent sitting across from each other but never addressing whatever… this is. If this is anything at all.

 

He licks his lips, maybe he gets dry mouth when he’s nervous too, but someone slams a locker shut in the hallway and startles Bri enough that she jumps and knocks her pencil case off the desk. She scrambles to pick up all her utensils and when Mr. Park passes her fox pen over, their fingers brush. Bri struggles not to touch the spot all through the day.

 

Brianna daydreams about him more than she probably should. She thinks about if they’d be friends if he were her age. If he’d be more forward if she was his age. If it would make any sort of a difference if she just weren’t his student.

 

She daydreams about what it would feel like to be held in his arms, how her given name would sound coming from his lips. How it would feel to kiss him.

 

It’s probably not healthy, but if she gets it all out during the daytime, she doesn’t dream of him at night and that’s even worse. Bri always wakes up with tears in her eyes and an empty, gaping, ache in her chest that doesn’t go away for the rest of the day. It makes sitting through Mr. Park’s class even more difficult.

 

But now it’s the very last day of classes. The coming Monday, Brianna’s going to be walking across the stage, accepting her diploma, and across the world in Canada on Tuesday.

 

She follows everyone out of the classroom before she pauses, pats her jacket pockets dramatically, and stops.

 

“Guys,” Her friends stop and turn to look at her. “I forgot something in the classroom, you go ahead without me.”

 

Everyone teases her a little before agreeing and making their way down the hall towards the exit and their usual haunt. Wonpil squints at her. They’ve been best friends for years and she knows exactly what Bri is thinking. She shrugs and waves Wonpil away. Mouths _later,_ before sprinting back down the hall towards Mr. Park’s classroom.

 

The room’s empty, except for where he’s standing behind his desk, packing up his things into the leather messenger bag he uses every day. He’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and his eyes are a little bit red from when he’d teared up a little telling them all goodbye. He’s pushing his slightly too long hair out of his face when he catches Brianna’s eye and stands up straighter, a giant smile on his face.

 

“Back so soon, Ms. Kang? I’d have thought you’d be glad to see the back of this place.”

 

“I’m going to miss you.” She blurts out, knuckles white against the straps of her backpack. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and I already know I’m never going to meet anyone else like you and I’m going to miss you so much, Mr. Park.”

 

Brianna’s sure she’s bright red, she absolutely didn’t mean to blurt it all out like that, but he’s just standing there and there’s a good chance this is the last time she’ll ever see him again.

 

He lets out a weird, hollow sort of laugh. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, but I promise, you’re going to meet lots of teachers even better than me.”

 

“That’s not what I mean.” Her hands are shaking and she’s standing maybe two feet away from him now. “There’s no one else like you.”

 

The silence in the room is heavy and suffocating, and even though every empty second feels like a rock on her chest, Brianna can’t seem to make herself move. He’s staring back at her and she can’t tell if it’s her deep infatuation making his eyes glitter, or the tears in her own.

 

“I’m sorry, I’ve made this uncomfortable.” She tears her eyes away from him, but she’s just staring at the ground, and can’t get her feet to move. “I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you, this is terribly inappropriate. It’s a good thing that I’m moving all the way to Canada and you’ll never have to see me again after today.”

 

“Brianna.” Her eyes snap back up to his. “I’m going to miss you too.”

 

There’s a crazy second where she thinks maybe he’ll reach out for her, but the corner of his lip just quirks and she finds herself smiling back at him through her tears.

 

“Goodbye, Miss. Kang.”

 

“Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

 

And she never sees him again.

 

* * *

 

Brianna startles so badly when the back door suddenly swings open that she drops her cigarette, swearing furiously when it extinguishes itself in the snow.

 

“Oh! Sorry, I hadn’t realized anyone else was out here.”

 

The woman’s strangely backlit by the colourful lights inside the club. She can’t really see her face, but Bri immediately recognizes the buzz cut. The bride-to-be from the bachelorette party earlier in the night. She’d turned bright cherry red when Bri had given her a lap-dance earlier in the night, arranged by the man of honour, and clenched her hands in her lap so hard that Bri was a little concerned she’d strain something.

 

“It’s fine,” Brianna pushes her hair out of her face and fishes another cigarette out of the carton in her pocket. “I don’t own the alley.”

 

The girl lets the door swing shut behind her, muffling the pounding bass, and shivers against the cold. Bri lights her cigarette with ease, watches the woman fumble with her own for a moment before rolling her eyes and leaning forwards towards her, lit ember glowing gently. It flares, bright enough to cast shadows under her cheekbones as she sucks in and lights her own cigarette from Brianna’s ember.

 

“Thanks, I’m Jinnie, by the way.” Her lips purse prettily when she blows out smoke, raises an eyebrow with a sparkle in her eye. ”Do you go by Young Kitten regularly or…?”

 

“Brianna.” She says, flicking ash into the snow. “What are you doing out here instead of inside with your friends? Last day of freedom before you’re locked down, right?”

 

Jinnie twists the engagement ring on her finger like she isn’t really used to the weight of it, takes a deep drag and holds it in before exhaling with her answer. “Just wanted some air. I didn’t want to take anyone else away from the fun. The girl with the pink hair… Bunny? She was doing some sort of bending thing that my Dowoon, my man of honour, was going absolutely ape-shit over.”

 

Bri laughs, Pil’s flexibility has always been legendary, even among the other girls. “She does yoga six out of seven days a week, even with our job. You should see her during her solo-set, they set up this aerial ring for her and even we stop to watch her.”

 

“You were really impressive too,” Jinnie says earnestly, “I could never move the way you do. Dowoon says I dance like I’m being electrocuted.”

 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

 

For some reason, Jinnie takes it as a challenge and does a couple of wiggles in time with the music coming from inside that makes Bri laugh so hard she ends up with her cigarette in one hand and the other on the wall behind her to steady herself.

 

“I told you! If I had to do your job, I would starve to death.”

 

“I’d toss a couple bills your way,” Bri says, patting her on the shoulder. “from sympathy if nothing else.”

 

“I’m hopeless.” Jinnie agrees with a laugh, “I’m just lucky that my girl doesn’t seem to mind.”

 

“Right,” Bri drawls, “when’s the happy day?”

 

“Less than a month away.”

 

Bri’s seen the look on Jinnie’s face hundreds of times before. “What, getting cold feet already?”

 

“It’s not that,” Jinnie has her lips pressed against the cigarette and she’s spinning her ring anxiously. “I’m just worried because… it’s forever, you know? We’ve been together for three years already, but how do you know for sure?”

 

Bri taps her fingers against her jacket thoughtfully. “I don’t think I could tell you, I’m not sure I’ve ever been in love.”

 

“It’s amazing.” The awe in Jinnie’s voice makes Bri turn to look at her. “I still get butterflies when she kisses me.”

 

“Well how do you know you don’t get that from everyone? Like I said, I’ve never properly been in love, but I know exactly what kind of feeling you’re talking about.”

 

“It’s not the same,” Jinnie insists, “there’s nothing like kissing someone you’re in love with.”

 

“How do you know?” Bri leans in a little, her lipstick’s left a red ring around the end of her cigarette and she can see Jinnie watching it as she lifts it to her lips. “You said it yourself, you’ve been together for three years now. A sample size of one doesn’t make for a good study.”

 

Her mouth is stained red, maybe from wine, maybe from biting it. Their breaths in the air form a haze around them, and somehow Jinnie still looks beautiful in the sickly streetlights. There’s snowflakes clinging to Jinnie’s eyelashes, melting on her lips, sticking to the short buzzed hair, wreathing her in diamonds.

 

Diamonds like the one on Jinnie’s finger.

 

She isn’t sure who pulls away first, but suddenly they’re both stumbling back away from each other. Bri pushes her hair from her face again, goes to take another drag out from her cigarette, but it’s gone out.

 

Jinnie brushes a hand over her hair, half melted snow sticking to her hair and hands. She takes a desperate drag of her cigarette and chokes on the smoke. “I should probably go back inside. My friends are probably going to be looking for me.”

 

“Yeah, probably.” Bri’s hands shake when she goes to light her cigarette again and she curses when she can’t get her lighter to catch.

 

Jinnie’s hand, fingers slim and nails varnished a pretty emerald green, reaches towards her with her own lighter. Bri stares too intently at the flame and when she pulls away, Jinnie’s face is obscured by the spots in her vision.

 

“Thanks.” Bri breathes out with the smoke, blinking against the streetlamps.

 

“Anytime.”

 

She hears the back door swing shut behind Jinnie and takes a deep breath in again, cold winter air instead of acrid smoke. The cold brick is rough against the back of her head and she knows she’s probably demolishing the careful curls that Pil had put into her hair, but Bri all of a sudden feels too exhausted to care.

 

When she finishes her cigarette, Bri fluffs her hair back up and plasters a winning grin onto her face before going back inside. She doesn’t catch so much as a glimpse of Jinnie again and ends up bringing home a patron. Bri calls him a taxi pretty much the second he rolls off her with a disappointing grunt and doesn’t bother seeing him out, jumping into the shower instead. She changes her sheets, leaves them in a crumpled pile at the foot of the bed, and crawls in shivering against the cold that’s somehow crept its way into the apartment.

 

Bri can’t sleep with anyone next to her, but she has an even harder time falling asleep with what feels like a ghost in her bed.

 

* * *

 

There’s a new boy in Brian’s history class and he’s lovely beyond words.

 

There’s a rasp to his voice that sends tingles up his spine, his eyes always seem to sparkle, his lips look so soft, and his buzz cut simultaneously makes him look younger and more mature.

 

Sungjin’s already made fast friends with Wonpil, and by extension, Dowoon and Jae. Wonpil’s always been able to see right through his bullshit and when Brian walks over to introduce himself, Wonpil’s already giving him the stink-eye.

 

“Hi, I’m Brian.”

 

Sungjin’s hand is warm, almost hot, in his. “Sungjin, but I guess you already knew that. I recognize you from History 2.”

 

There’s immediately a genuine spark of _something_ between the two of them. It’s like they’ve been here before and all the planets are aligning again inside Sungjin’s eyes. Brian’s simultaneously too giddy to form words and disgusted with himself for his sappiness.

 

Brian goes to sit down at the table next to Sungjin when Wonpil pops up, sending his chair screeching backwards. “Hey, Bri, can I talk to you really quick?”

 

Wonpil pulls him away without waiting for an answer, and Brian wants to pitch a fit, but he’s never looked at him like this before. They walk all the way outside until they’re next to the portable classrooms which are always deserted during lunch. It’s sunny outside and Brian has to squint against the sun to look at Wonpil.

 

“Everything’s in place again.” Brian wants to laugh and ask what kind of nonsense Wonpil’s spouting when slim fingers brush across his forehead and he _remembers_. It literally sends him reeling forwards into Wonpil who catches him with surprising strength. “Don’t fuck it up this time. Don’t hurt him again.”

 

Brian throws himself to the side and throws up into the grass, Wonpil rubbing soothing circles onto his back. Wonpil passes him a water bottle that he doesn’t remember seeing him carry and Brian rinses out his mouth, wiping his hand with the back of his mouth.

 

“Why did you do that?” His legs still feel shaky, things are coming back in bits and pieces. “Why did you make me remember again? How did you make me remember?”

 

“I did it so you could atone for what you did four lifetimes ago.” Wonpil pushes his hair out of his face and his eyes look old. “This is the perfect opportunity for a second chance.”

 

“But _how_?”

 

“Reincarnation’s a cycle that we all have to go through. I’m one of the unlucky ones who gets to remember every cycle, and I can make others remember too.”

 

“Why me and Sungjin?”

 

“Why not you and Sungjin?” He about pisses himself when Jae and Dowoon poke their heads around the corner. “I’ve seen the threads connecting your lives together, and in every lifetime, the two of you are better together.”

 

“What the fuck, you two are in on this too?”

 

Jae shrugs, tucking himself on Brian’s other side. “I see the bonds, Dowoon is the glue that keeps Wonpil and I from killing each other.”

 

Dowoon sits cross-legged in front of Brian, boxing him in. “I can take the memories away too, if you want. I know it’s a lot for some people and we won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. You have lifetimes to get it right again, this one’s just a really good opportunity, and I think you two could finally be happy together.”

 

Brian thinks about it, the guilt is a lot, but he shakes his head. “I think you’re right. We could be good together again, and I want to remember why it’s so important to keep it together this time.”

 

He wants to make Sungjin happy, treat him right.

 

They go back inside and, thankfully, Jaebum and Jinyoung are sitting in the seats they’d vacated, keeping Sungjin busy. He wonders if maybe Jaebum and Jinyoung are a pair too, the way they orbit one another he wouldn't be surprised.

 

“Hey!” Sungjin’s expression brightens when he catches them walking back. “I thought you’d already gotten sick of me.”

 

“I was hardly gone a moment, are you saying you started to miss me already?”

 

Sungjin _flirts_ with him, and Brian flirts back. They’re almost in their own little world, but Brian doesn’t miss the satisfied looks that Wonpil keeps on shooting Jae and Dowoon. They leave lunch after exchanging phone numbers and Brian spends the rest of his days feeling like he’s floating on the clouds.

 

That night, Brian dreams.

 

It’s he and Sungjin, the very first life, when they were still happy. They’re in the forest together, their spot, Sungjin’s head pillowed on his chest, hair soft under his fingers, the grass cool and soft in contrast to the warm sun. Maybe they’re being reckless, but they’re young and in love and Brian just wants to hold him.

 

Sungjin looks up at him, lashes casting shadows over his face, eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

 

“Say it to me again.” He rasps.

 

Youngyun leans down to whisper in his ear. “I love you.”

 

He kisses his forehead. “I love you.”

 

His closed lids. “I love you.”

 

His mouth. “I love you.”

 

Sungjin surges up, smile on his lips, kisses him back.

 

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> There are feelings between a student and a teacher in the third life


End file.
